dragons_requiemfandomcom-20200214-history
Player Characters
Ashitia Nyrios Backstory The first memory I can recall is when I was 7 years old. My father, Agrius Nyrios, wanted to have me take the ordinary path of a woman of Shadowmere, however I was not interested in anything except one thing, exercising with the men of Shadowmere. I would frequently try my best to wrestle and pin them, and quickly found that I had a knack for athletics. However, most of the boys would blame that my fairness would distract them, or that they are not found of exerting physical superioity over a woman. Damn my sex. Yet, as I grew older, my impatience with my father grew. When I was of 11 years, I finally hit a crossroads. All the boys of my age were to enter into krypteia. As a prospective citizen of Shadowmere, you are required to prove your worth as a warrior, and forced to live off the land, fighting and stealing from the lessers of society for 7 years. During these times you are forced to use everything that you learned in the training since you turn 6. Many do not survive. I knew that there was only one way to prove to my father, and to all Shadowmerans, that I was a warrior. I did not want to live the cusioned life of a maiden, so I forced onto myself krypteia. Leaving only my robe of office behind as indication, I began a new life. My krypteia was the hardest challenge I have faced in my life. Having only watched the arms training from afar, I was not prepared for the fighting that I would have to endure. Having been caught stealing rags to wear, I was beaten by one of the older lessers. I learned quick that you must be faster than your enemy, not only stronger. After the first spring, I was able to steal a knife, and some warmer clothes, knowing that winter would be upon me before I knew it. I only tasted my own blood for the first 3 years. But when I was 14, everything changed. *begins to stare at the ground* The harshest winter in memory came that year. I was starving, thin and weak, yet I happened upon a shed in the northern reaches of Shadowmere. Thinking it abandoned, I went inside to escape from the cold. Inside, I found a young boy, most likely of the age 16 or 17. He was a runaway, and also starving. Every instinct of mine told me to rid myself of him, that he would be a burdon. Yet, I felt compassion for him, and brought what hunt I could find for us to share. Throughout the winter, I was able to keep us warm and fed. Yet despite my efforts, the cold eventually caught up to him. He developed white frost in his feet, cold and hard to the touch. I knew not how to care for him. And then, I realized that there was a band of bandits rounding the horizon. I quickly tried to get him out of the house, and we rushed to a nearby field. But ... his damn moaning. He was in pain, and lost control of his wits. ' *looks to party*' I tried to calm him, I tell you! But nothing worked. That is, until I silenced him. I have killed many in my life. I regret his the most, yet I cannot even remember his name. The rest of my krypteia I spent fighting for my life. Having tasted the blood of another, I soon became accustomed to taking life. Yet, due to that young boy, or maybe my sex, I never took the life of someone that did not deserve it. I sharpened my wits and my skills on bandits, thieves, and criminals. And when I turned 18, I returned home. Despite my scars, and the sincerity of my words, my father did not want to believe that I could be a competent warrior. It just wasn't my place in society, so I decided to defy him, and my name. I tried to enroll myself in the standing military, yet they did not want me. After pleading my case time and time again I was finally given a chance. They put me through a horrid gauntlet to join, nothing that the other men had to go through. And despite narrowly losing my life to a ballista bolt that I gave me the scar I now bear *points to missing eye*, I pushed through and defeated every obstacle presented. Finally, after all was said and done, I was still barred from entering. Cursing their stubborness I left Shadowmere heading for the Elven lands to make a name for myself, with a promise to return home and take command of a nation that spurned me. Relic To edit your infobox, mouse over puzzle piece, click edit Backstory LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST Loptr To edit your infobox, mouse over puzzle piece, click edit Backstory LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST LAYOUTTEST Parallax Birth of a Courtesan My story began among the courtesans of De'Qurra in, what is called in the common tongue, a brothel. I have learned that these houses in other lands are places of shame and dishonour, but in De'Qurra they are not. There, courtesans carry no more shame than an artisan, and in some cases as much honour as a warrior. Thederix is just one example, but... Anyway, my mother became pregnant by a soldier, as happens occasionally among courtesans. His name is Apertaile and he marched against the dwarves as a young man. After his service he adventured, much like I am now, returning in honour not long after my tenth birthday. I met him for the first time shortly thereafter. Oh you should have seen him back then, Ash! He was tall for dragonkind...lean like an Elf, fierce as an Orc and thick like a Dwarf. Even today, he would be a fine test of your skill. By that time, my mother had trained me in the courtesans' arts. My moon blood had already come, my contract had been activated and I had fetched the highest price for the First Taste as had any other courtesan in De'Qurra in five years. At that time, my future was bright indeed. But as I said, my father had returned and he eventually insisted that I walk a different path. As honourable dragonkind, I could do little but acquiesce. My mother's beauty was in its twilight at that time and my father presented us with an impressive marriage contract so, though her clientele still paid handsomely, she thought it wiser to retire. Initially, we had planned on opening our own house. After all, why not? There was much coin between my father and mother, she knew the business inside and out and my star was on the rise. We bought a manse in the hills and spent the next year preparing. It is customary among dragonkind for mothers to educate daughters in their profession, as it is for fathers to educate sons in theirs. I'm sure many of your cultures have similar practices, so you understand. I had obviously already been educated well by my mother and my father had no sons, so he insisted on training me in the combat arts. He began by training me as one would any new military recruit. After each day, I would serve my father tea in the courtesan's practice. It was then that my talent for magic was discovered. My elemental affinity manifested to coincide with my first moon blood, as it does for all female dragonkind. It was rather convenient, since often tea would not be quite as hot as it should by the time it was poured into a customer's cup. I only considered myself fortunate. I extended my father the courtesy of tea service after each day of training, as is fitting for a man of his station. Typically, I would build a fire and brew the tea at the end of each day but on one particular day all of the wood was wet so I held the kettle in my hands and heated the tea as I had done as a courtesan. My father was naturally surprised. At that time, I was unaware that elemental affinities do not manifest in such a way, so I was suprised as well when he told me that my arcane training would begin as soon as a suitable teacher could be found. After a bit of searching, a school was found in Elvish lands, near the borders to the Dragonborn and Orcish kingdoms. My family sent me immediately. I had only known my father for a couple of years by that time, so the parting was warm but our relationship was one of duty, honour, and obligation more than love. My mother, however, cried for days after I left. We were as close if not closer than any family I'd ever met. ...I'm sorry, I just realized that I haven't told you her name. Lilex. Perhaps I'll tell more about her later, but for now know that she is a former courtesan and runs the Volcanis House in De'Qurra with my father. Silvanium Far sooner than I had wanted, my parents found a suitable school and sent me off to learn spellcraft. The school was called Westglane Silvanium. Obviously it was in the forest, but Wood Elves created a breathtaking aesthetic consisting of all the things a college would need, quarters, class rooms, practice yards, libraries all molded out of and into trees, plants and other forest life. They even had animal servants who handled some of the tasks required to operate a college. Delivering messages, hunting for food, keeping watch, moving goods back and forth, etc. It was like no place I'd ever seen. The aesthetic and magic of the school might have been unfamiliar to me, but people tend to be the same wherever they live and respond to certain...stimuli...in the same ways. *Parralax grins* Elves, however, tend to be a conservative lot and are particularly susceptible to a courtesan's charms...or at least I thought they would be. Most of the other students were Elves and had been alive for at least 50 years. Even for the other races (Half-Orcs, Humans, Gnomes) I was considered very young at 13 whereas they'd all been older than 20. I did my best to hide my youth and got away with it for the most part. After all, I was well over six feet tall at the time. Then I met an Elf by the name of Fareleon. As part of a mage's training, they are paired up with a mentor. Mostly, upperclassmen are paired with lowerclassmen. But since we were the youngest of our respective stations, the archmage thought it amusing to pair us together. Fareleon was the college's newest professor, beginning his tenure there only a few years previous. Although this was rare for an Elf of merely 200, he had done some adventuring, gained great honor, and was rewarded with the post. Looking into his past further, I found out few things. First, he was SMART. Smart like a dagger in your boot. Smart in the way that makes smart people feel really, really dumb. Second, he was deadly quick. He could put a knife anywhere on you within ten feet even if you were looking for it. Last, he was completely neurotic. Everything in the world had to be slowly and carefully controlled and categorized in ever increasingly precise ways. Plants, animals, spells, methods, monsters, books...trinkets, boots...socks...dust...dead skin, and finally...romance. This guy took it slow like slow had never been taken before. At first, there were occasional visits. Questions related to my studies. Questions about his adventures. A compliment here, a dropped book there. And that continued in measured, so infintesimly tedious increments...for a year. But one year to the day, we'd hit a milestone. He asked me out. Guess what happened next... Quora: He got laid? Nope, didn't get laid. We went on a date...and another...and another...for, can anyone guess how long? Quora: A year? A year! A year. And then a kiss. And then another year. And that kind of thing, for waaaay too long, in the "oh my god, will it ever end?" sort of way. Time eventually came, thank heaven, and all my hard work paid off handsomely, so unbelievably, so profitably, in more than I ever thought I could possibly chew. I had won myself an elven husband and curse the day for eternity. Life...over. Although there were many benefits to the station I "earned", namely de facto access to as much magic practice, training, and knowledge as I could digest over a period of five years, there are certain expectations of an Elven wife. Lots of girly elven stuff like maintaining a garden, singing, dancing, being one with mother earth. Which is fine, but have you ever wondered why they continually get their asses kicked six ways from Samhein? Because most of them sit around and "listen to the river" or some dumb shit like that and then wonder why guys who swing hammers all day are pounding out Elven pancakes by the thousands. Don't get me wrong, a deep exploration of magical theory is really cool sometimes, especially in a magical garden where "listening to the river" is not so figurative anymore. But it does nothing for your sword arm. Anyway, the final obligation was to have a child. Now I love my son dearly, but had I known where Fareleon's courtship would have ended, I would have broken it off as soon as possible. *awkward silence* Yes, that's what I said. I have a son. The Rise of House Vulcanis House Vulcanis was formed in 1523 when Apertaile the Unyielding married Lilex the Elegant. The first generation include Parralax (deceased), Vulcanix, and Apertaix(deceased). The second generation include Axenor, Helix, Apertaile II, Maksim, Mariel, and Arelix. The third generation include Parralax II and Axenia. Registered House Assets: *''Vulcanis House: Currently the largest Courtesan's house in De'Qurra. They officially employ 23 courtesans, four Madames, twelve maidens, six cooks, six maids, and ten security personnel.'' *''Vulcanis Trading Company: Among the top three trading companies in De'Qurra. Registered assets include six caravels, 15 dhows, five longboats, three warehouses, ten market stalls, and an undisclosed number of shares in several Gnomish airships. They employ more than 100 sailors, soldiers, clerks, deckhands, and other personnel.'' They trade in arms and armor, silk, machinery, magical objects, foodstuffs, ivory, pearls, iron, tin, gold, and courtesan, brokerage, and government contracts. *''Parralax's Rest: A manse in the hills just north of De'Qurra.'' *''Apertaix's Rest: A manse along the coast just south of De'Qurra.'' House Titles and Honors: *''Praefect of De'Qurra: Apertaile Vulcanis. (1556 - present).'' *''High Priestess of De'Qurra: Lilex Vulcanis. (1558 - present).'' *''High Champion of De'Qurra: Apertaix Vulcanis (1549 - 1555)'' *''High Champion of De'Qurra: Vulcanix Vulcanis. (1555 - 1564).'' *''Royal Guardship: Apertaile Vulcanis (1526 - 1556)'' *''Royal Guardship: Vulcanix Vulcanis (1553 - 1564).'' *''Royal Guardship: Helix Vulcanis. (1568 - present).'' *''High Marshall: Vulcanix Vulcanis. (1564 - present).'' *''Honorary Ambassador to Shadowmere (awarded post mortem in 1556): Apertaix Vulcanis''. Plaque commemorating his heroic death sits along the beach south of Shadowmere. *''Priestess of Bahamut: Parralax Vulcanis II (1568-present)'' *''Registered Courtesan: Lilex Vulcanis (1492 - 1522)'' *''Registered Courtesan: Parralax Vulcanis (1520 - 1523)'' *''Registered Courtesan: Mariel Vulcanis (1562 - present)'' The Salamander of the Southlands <> I've done some digging about my family...check this out: <> Honorable Marshall, Champion and Guard, Vulcanis Vulcanix: The efforts of your servants to disrupt Dwarven supply lines have born great fruit for our mutual cause. The supplies, lives, and intelligence taken by your Salamander has been invaluable and a boon to our collective relationship and efforts. You have our utmost appreciation. Words are wind, however, so as a token of our appreciation please accept these gifts along with our gratitude. We must bring your attention to some recent misunderstandings. It appears your Salamander has strayed beyond his directive and chosen targets unaffiliated with the war effort. These groups have taken material and personnel losses not easily replaceable. In addition, some of the Salamander's victims were individuals of station capable of undermining the positive relations between our two great nations. In order to preserve our relationship, we now consider the Salamander's work to be completed. We cannot emphasize enough that we are thankful for his work and so would like to reward him properly during his next visit to Shadowmere. With the utmost respect and thanks, Belisarius Theodoricus Ambassador to De'Qurra <> I found this after a visit to the royal library. They've got every official communicae in the last 500 years stored there. I could sit there for weeks and still not be able to read it all. The librarian there was a nice old man and was happy to help me find anything I want. So I ask him about Vulcanix Vulcanis' relationship to the Salamander. He tells me that the Salamander is his kin. Nephew in fact. I already knew Vulcanix was my brother, so I ask him how old the Salamander is. 43. I ask the man if he knows what the Salamander looks like. Guy said he looks like a snake. A four-legged, blue, snake... <> The Salamander's name is Axenor. Axenor is my son. Quora D'Esparil Backstory When I was an infant in Shadowmere I was deemed too weak, or perhaps I was merely unwanted. I was sold by my own people to Half-Orcs for their use as a slave. When I was young I served my Half-Orc masters by fetching water, cleaning dishes, serving tables, and so forth. I learned quickly to work with diligence, though not too much. If you didn't do well enough, you were beaten. If you worked too well you were given positions of responsibility – after that comes a few rewards and then the inevitable failures culminating in your early demise. When I was about 10, the farm burned - all of it. I was out getting water when I noticed the blaze behind me. I brought the water back, but it wasn't enough, and my masters were more concerned with getting their valuables from the plantation than anything else anyway. The slave cabins were built out of the cheapest material the Half-Orcs could get, so they went up like dry grass – killing almost everyone I'd ever known. To make up for the loss of the plantation, my masters sold me off for a pittance. All the remaining slaves ended up being sold to different owners. So I don't know anyone I grew up with. My new masters put me to work in the fields. I picked cotton, pulled bowls off of cotton, picked seeds out of cotton, and carried bags of cotton. At first my hands and arms were so cut and tired, you could hardly move them. But, you get used to it. When I was 12, I met Erictela. She was a worshiper of Mephistopheles. I didn't know who he was but she would talk about him and I'd listen. She talked a lot about good and evil and what it meant. I remember once, she pointed to some newcomer and said that he looked like a good man. And I agreed because he looked like it and acted like it too. I believe his name was Arton. He was always helping people out, and tried to tell people that better things would come their way. I liked him. He lasted two weeks before the masters beat him to death. There were others too, but I don't remember them as well. Anyway, she always pointed it out when it happened like that and explained that it didn't take any genius to see that the benevolent gods these people worship don't help them out at all. They just get their worshipers killed. “Besides,” she said, “if you look around it's clear that devils rule the world, not kind-hearted gods, and not men.” She said that Mephistopheles was the most powerful of them. Anyway, she recommended helping the devils out by sending souls to them if you could – especially evil ones. That or tempting good men to evil deeds and damning their souls. That way, maybe you'll get rewarded, maybe you won't. But you'll at least be on the winning side. She always warned me not to deal with Devils though, because then you act like you're on even footing with them – which you aren't. I still follow her rules, though she's passed. D'Esparil was her Iast name. In her honor I took it as my own. I made pacts with elementals for the powers I have, and I use them to send souls to Mephistopheles when I can. Maybe I'll be rewarded, maybe I won't. But I'll be on the winning side. Travok To edit your infobox, mouse over puzzle piece, click edit Backstory Start Here